


Song of A Raven

by orphan_account



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Half-inspired by Goblin (K-Drama), M/M, and HP’s Ministry of Magic, college student!Daniel, grim reaper!Ong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-27 05:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12574888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ong Seungwoo is a part of a myth. Not so much a Greek God (although all those compliments can beg to differ) as a deity of death; A Grim Reaper, guide of the souls.Kang Daniel is a part of mundanity. A young man that sometimes still sees the world through rose-tinted glasses, in between countless college papers and packs of instant noodles.And it might be written in thebookthat the stars will cross, and so will their paths.





	1. One Man and Another

**Author's Note:**

> 171031 : My first attempt writing for this fandom.  
> Happy Halloween!  
>   
>   
>  _ps: unbeta’ed, thus possibility for grammar mistakes since english isn’t my first language :)_

 

 

 

> _"Remember friend as you pass by_
> 
> _As you are now so once was I_
> 
> _As I am now you will surely be_
> 
> _Prepare thyself to follow me."_
> 
> _— a common epitaph_

 

* * *

 

Ong Seungwoo likes to think of himself as somewhat an intelligent being that takes his job seriously with pride and passion.

He reads a lot, throws witty jokes a lot, drinks tea a lot and _waits_ without complaining a whole more lot.

But sometimes, even the most exciting job can turn dull.

 

He looks at his chained pocket watch once again before shutting and putting it back inside the breast pocket of his overcoat, groans and wonders when the man will just _die_.

(And he _does_ know, but it’s not the problem here.)

 

Politicians are the worst, most boring crops. They either die from heart attack or brain cancer, what with all the sins they have to redeem.

This man is no exception.

(Said man is a person in his seventies. Balding white hair, ugly wrinkles, expensive but untasteful flanel fashion, hundreds of grandchildren, decades-apart second wife. But now is alone in his grandish working room at his three-story house, working on another bill that will harm the citizens but keep all his seven generation safe.)

 

Seungwoo, who has been standing beside the fireplace for half an hour, is just about to dust his well-polished leather boots after noticing a slight layer of ashes has somehow made their way to mar it, when he hears a gasping breath and he looks up to see the elder is clutching at his chest.

 

He just watches when the man’s hand is scrambling at his desk, must be looking for the emergency button he has set up if a situation exactly like this arises, but Seungwoo already knows how this will unfold.

Seungwoo slides his hand inside his coat to pull and look at the name card again, not to make mistake mixing the man’s name up (it’s his tenth Reaping for the day and it’s easy to make mistake when his mind is elsewhere and Taehyun gets grouchy if he knows Seungwoo makes slip-ups again, small as it is, intentionally or not.)

 

After making sure of the name (on top of the other three rows of details of the date, hour, and cause of death) Seungwoo puts the card back quietly and finally moves when the man draws his final breath, eyes bulging, dark pupils unmoving.

It only moves again when the soul enters the astral layer, the black pupil now transparent.

 

The man seems at lost. And much more so after he finds a tall, out-of-this-worldly good looking guy in a handsome all-black outfits he’s never seen pops out, out of nowhere. Coming for him.

 

“Good evening, Ahn Chilsoo-ssi. I’m your here to take you.”

*

 

It’s a small room filled to the brim with books. The high ceiling, the walls. Except for the floor and the long mahogany table in the middle where they sit opposite of each other now.

Ahn Chilsoo, who has his nose scrunched up in disgust, looks at the open book before him then looks at Seungwoo again.

“Keep reading.” Seungwoo says, cutting off whatever the elder wants to say. He just wants this one to end quickly, and get back to his office.

“Why do I have to read this?” Ahn Chilsoo asks “I _read_ books. And this is horrible.”

Seungwoo fakes a patient smile as he presents a ceramic cup with steaming _bancha_ to the man across him. “Of course it’s horrible, it’s the book you wrote.”

“I wrote bills, not books.” The man sneers.

“Oho.” Seungwoo exclaims “You think so?”

Seungwoo gestures to the man to drink the tea he brews, and when the man finally takes a sip of it and spit it back while complaining it’s unbearably bitter, Seungwoo tries not to scoff-laughs.

(Of course, he has to give him a fourth-flush _bancha_.)

“Think about the summary,” Seungwoo taps the wood so Ahn Chilsoo is looking at him again “A poor little kid from orphanage, taken in by a rich woman that took pity on him, and as he grew up, instead of learning to offer helping hands to those less fortunate around him, he chose to be greedy and make other suffers. The book will end with the man dying alone in his working room and meeting a grim reaper.” Seungwoo finishes and watches as realization comes down upon the man.

It takes a while until the fear settles and Ahn Chilsoo asks with a small, very uncharacteristically voice “So, I’m really dead?”

“You only ask me now?” Seungwoo raises his eyebrows “Well, yes, you’re dead. And I’m your friendly local grim reaper.” He says with a smirk, a menacing one.

“Whe-where will I go after this?” Ahn Chilsoo stutters, intimidated.

Seungwoo shrugs “That’s a decision only for the higher-ups to know.” He answers, before giving the man a tilt of his head, telling him to continue reading.

 

It’s, needless to say, a thoroughly suffocating hour until Ahn Chilsoo finally turns the last page of his book and looks up at him.

Then Seungwoo, not wasting any more second, stands up and gestures the man to follow him to the other door they’re not using to enter the room.

 

“For a tip off, you will either end up in the final purgatory or given a second chance. If it’s the latter, make sure to be a better person.” _Or maybe a better animal if you’ll happen to be one,_ Seungwoo adds, only inside his head.

 

The man, Seungwoo sees, when exposed to the dim light from the other side of the windowed door is not unlike a lenticular photography.

He sees him in his teens, in his forties, in his seventies.

Seungwoo thinks he can also see Ahn Chilsoo as a man he _might_ be. With kind eyes and gentle wrinkles. If only he were to choose it in the past. (Or maybe in the next life.)

For the present, though, Ahn Chilsoo is no more.

*

 

Seungwoo stands at where he is for a while, some times after Ahn Chilsoo has gone, thinking about so many things, but mostly about how it's been a long day and he can _finally_ go back now.

 

(Until he remembers he’s running out of toothpaste and has to stop by first at the nearest convenience store, at least—dropping his glamour and all—.

And he huffs to himself.)


	2. The South Korean Ministry of Death

 

> _"Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity."_
> 
> _— Henry Van Dyke_

* * *

 

The Seoul Public Cemetery is dark and eeriely quiet, save for the rustles of the trees and the mating calls of cicadas. One man, though not really a man, is also walking quietly even that no one can hear him.  
Seungwoo is walking with a black umbrella in hand (and a tube of toothpaste inside his overcoat pocket), making a beeline to the only grave with a foreign name on the premise, with a headstone that reads:

  
_Tom B. Stone_  
_1813-1893_  
_“Life is a dream walking, death is going home.”_

Seungwoo holds out his black umbrella to tap at the first 1, 3, dash then another 1, and 3. Then only blinks when the mound opens up and drags him six feet under.  
He arrives at the lobby with dirts sticking all over his clothes, grumbles a bit and taking mental notes to inform the _General Affair_ about the malfunction at the entrance again.

  
“Welcome, Ong Seungwoo-ssi,” the pretty receptionist greets him after Seungwoo puts his umbrella on the holder and walks to the grand atrium where it’s all white marbles and hard woods.

  
“Hello, Kyulkyung-ssi.” He waves cheerily to the the pale girl who stands behind a quartz reception desk, in front of a huge flying black raven symbol on the wall with smaller letters that spells _South Korean Ministry of Death_ below it—that’s how everyone calls them, _The Ravens_ “You look pretty today, too.”

  
Kyulkyung blushes (as notable as a paleness can darkens) and returns the compliment. Seungwoo finally decides to be cheeky and props his tilting head with his right hand at her desk, flirting with her for good measure. Burial soil and all.  
Until someone smacks the back of his head rather loudly and grabs the nape of his coat so he has no choice but to straighten up.

  
“I’m sorry for the trouble, Kyulkung-ssi.”  
Kyulkung only laughs when she sees who it is “It’s okay, Minhyun-nim.”  
Seungwoo turns around to give Hwang Minhyun a dirty look and a click of his tounge “Just say if you want to get close with Kyulkyung-ssi too.”

  
Minhyun only rolls his eyes before deciding to slap sanity back into Seungwoo’s head again “Come on, we have to fetch Jonghyun.” then walks first after nodding politely to the receptionist.

  
“See you around, Kyulkyung-ssi.” Seungwoo lingers for a bit to wave to the girl, who only laughs and nods, then he runs a little to catch up with Minhyun who’s taking too long of strides.

“Good evening, Minhyun-nim, Seungwoo-nim.” Workers greet them as they strut, making their way to the elevator.  
Between the two of them, they have fair shares of fanboys and fangirls across the underworld, let alone the ministry.  
People calls them Eye Candy.

Minhyun, who’s been called an angel (eventhough it’s highly inappropriate given their nature), is that _Vice Chief of the Reapers Office_ from the _Soul and Spirit Relation Department_ everyone looks up to.  
He’s composed and calm, with a nice lulling voice and a charm that makes all the crops willingly follow him when he’s their reaper (Seungwoo believes it’s because they think Minhyun’s really an angel, thus how the name comes about.)

While Seungwoo, the Top Reaper Ong Seungwoo, who has face that of a Greek God (which is inappropriate too, fingers crossed the higher-ups doesn’t hear bout this), is witty and just about everyone’s favorites.  
Crops both love and hate him. Because he can be either a sweetheart or an ass when he wants to.  
Doesn’t matter. Seungwoo always gets his job done.

  
They hear gushes about bits of news here and there as they enter the elevator. Ancient Spirits problem in the North, the new regulation from the other ministry (Life— _The Doves_ )—not said without ithat will also affect them, the ugly new design of their pocket watch, but for the most part, their surrounding is rather quiet, given that it’s nearing daybreak.

“Seonho somehow got in trouble again with his soul so I have to pick him up at Reinforcement.” Minhyun sighs as he presses number 3, then number 5 “You go fetch Jonghyun, he’s been at the Clock Room for two days straight, I don’t want to see him going mad.”

Seungwoo complies and waves Minhyun a temporary goodbye as the other goes down at the 3rd floor.  
He sees himself out two floors after.

 

Clock Room, as the name suggests, is the room full of Clocks under the hold of _Accounting and Administration Department_ which Jonghyun is the Chief.  
It occupies the whole floor. And it is not for the claustrophobic.

There’s millions of clocks adorning the walls, each one is the representative of a person, varies in size depending on the age of the beholder.  
One or two minuscule clocks pop up here and there for every new foetal conceived. Another expands just a little bigger, pushing away the others around it, as someone’s having their birthday.

This department keep accounts on people’s lifetime, working in tandem with _the other ministry._  
They have to keep watch on each and every clock. When one starts behaving oddly, they need to detach it from the wall, pull out all the machinery and checks for the series of numbers that are stamped on the empty shell (which indicates to the date of their death that’s about to come.) Then they do all the paper works until name cards are ready to be sent to _Reapers Office._  
They have a tedious job down here and Seungwoo wonders how these incredible beings could stand it, _with all these ticking sounds_ , without getting nuts.

Jonghyun already looks half-mad when Seungwoo finds him in front of the _Busan_ section of the wall.  
“Yo,” Seungwoo taps Jonghyun’s shoulder “Let’s go get food.”  
Jonghyun looks like he wants to laugh and cry at the same time.  
*

Grim reaper doesn’t need to eat anything to sustain themself, but Seungwoo guesses they do enjoy a little mundanity and irony in their not-life, which explains why the Ministry has a five-stars level cafeteria with wide selections of cuisine.  
And a medium rare wagyu beef steak wouldn’t hurt him or his non-existent digestive system, so whatever.

  
Jonghyun talks animatedly about anything but his overload work and Seungwoo looks at him with concern. Because Jonghyun _never_ talks animatedly, he’s always as serious as Seungwoo when he gets emotionally-constipated.

  
Minhyun comes at the right time, with Seonho clinging to him from behind, making them waddle like ducklings.  
It’s a normal occurence so Seungwoo just glances at it.

  
Another normal occurence is Seonho, after waving sadly to him and Jonghyun from Minhyun’s shoulder, brightens up after his Vice Chief get out of his hold and pats his butt to go get food in return.  
The kid eats like five times a day.

  
(“It’s just... I _feel_ like I have to,” Seonho said when asked after the first few times his sunbaes witnessed him eating like he’s honestly starving. They all knew it might be upbringing from his past life but no one said it out loud.  
_No one remembers._ It’s a taboo.  
For they are here, committing themselves to immortality, as punishment for their past life.)

Seonho comes back after piling up his plate then sits beside Minhyun.  
Minhyun, who is listening to Jonghyun (who’s slowly getting back to his collected self), proves once again his ability to multi-task.  
He switchs simultaneously between giving opinions to Jonghyun and monitoring Seonho with his food.  
“Slow down.” He warns.  
“Eat your veggies.” He scolds, which Seonho grumbles to.  
(“Seonho..” He says again.  
Seonho grumbles again but proceeds to at least picking at his veggies.)

While Seungwoo chooses to space out with the low tone of his friends’ discussion washes over him, watching the LCD screen behind Minhyun’s head absentmindedly  
(Which full with changing notices like “ _Friday is Vegetarian day._ ” and “ _Grind your own coffee beans._ ” to “ _Yoo Seonho, don’t pick at your parsnip._ ”  
The last one has been there for a month, everyone was puzzled at first before they realized it must be Guanlin’s doing.  
They’re just curious how it passed Dongho’s supervision.)

“..woo, Hey, Seungwoo.”  
“Hmm?” Seungwoo turns to Jonghyun  
“We’re going to the rec room for a bit.” Jonghyun says “You want to join?”  
“Nah. My last week’s report for Taehyun is long overdue. When he does remember, I’m going to die for the second time.”  
Everyone laughs at that. Jonghyun’s a bit hysterical.  
It’s a sign that the other three should hurry up to the rec room before Jonghyun shakes and drops his sanity on the way.  
*

Noh Taehyun is a force of nature and doesn’t everyone know it.  
He might not be on the taller side in height, but his quick thinking, deft hands and just authority make up for it.  
That’s why Seungwoo is mildy curious when he sees the Chief seems deep in thought when he enters their office on the second floor.

  
He glances to Yongguk (which also goes by the name Longguo, exchange Reaper from China, who’s feeling more Korean by the day) at his secretarial desk and mouthed to ask what’s wrong with their Chief.  
Before Yongguk can answer though, Taehyun is already muttering “Seungwoo-yah.”

  
“Yes, Chief?” _Please don’t ask about last week’s report_ , he gulps, crossing his fingers. _Please_.

  
“Your last week report..”  
_He’s going to die the second time._

  
“Which you have yet to hand to me...”  
_It’s gonna be an ugly death._

  
Then Taehyun finally looks up at him and Seungwoo is ready to accept his fate.

  
“Give the details to Seonho later so he can whip it up. I’m putting you for a stake out.”  
*

“Sanggyun and Kenta are on it too.” Yongguk explains as they go out of the door after Yongguk gestures at Seungwoo to follow him.

  
“But it’s...” Seungwoo starts to argue when the other describes it patiently to him.

  
“I know it’s something for the Investigation Office to do. But they have too much at their hand with the Ancient Spirits break-out in the North. North asks for help so there they go.”

  
“Aren’t we like on an eternal impending war with them or something?” Seungwoo says whatever comes to his mind.

  
“No.” Yongguk shakes his head, smirking “Not in this realm.”  
Then they laugh, more exasperatedly than not.

  
He knows the case that’s being rolled over to them isn’t as big of a case than what the North has, but it’s still frustating.  
_So that’s why Jonghyun doesn’t talk._ Seungwoo realizes this a bit late.

  
“Well, I will always be in the office if you need a back up.” Yongguk says “And Seonho is grounded too for the time being. Maybe if he can soften Chief up, he’ll be able to help you all on site a bit later.”

  
Seungwoo just nods. While Yongguk pats his forearm supportingly then heads back inside.

He slides his arm inside his overcoat to feel the wax-sealed envelope given to him by Taehyun when he retreats,  
_Nah_. He’ll rest now and save it for tomorrow.

 


	3. The Boy with Sunshine for A Smile

 

> _Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting,_
> 
> _And cometh from afar._
> 
> _Not in entire forgetfulness,_
> 
> _And not in utter nakedness,_
> 
> _But trailing clouds of glory, do we come From God, who is our home:_
> 
> _Heaven lies about us in our infancy._
> 
> _— William Wordsworth_

 

* * *

 

Kang Daniel wants to die and he hopes it’ll be a quick one.

Because if he’s about to see the word _pirouette_ once again he’s going to jump from the top of his bunk bed or something.

 

Mid-term’s not supposed to be easy, but Daniel, two years ago, thought he had dodged a bullet choosing _Contemporary Dance_ as his university major. He doesn’t expect that he still has to deal with the textbook and the written essay aspect up until now and he's _this_ close to tearing his hair out.

 

Sighing and faceplanting into the desk to mull over his upcoming grades, he can already hear his roommate’s maniacal laughter even before the guy enters the bedroom.

When he does tho, his infamous cackle is already muffled and Daniel isn’t sure if he should be grateful for it or not.

 

"Daniel~" Jaehwan sing-songs in a playful, exaggerated english accent “Look at what I bring you.”

Daniel turns his head to the other side but does not lift it from the desk. The room is tilted and Jaehwan is a diagonal screecher with a phone in hand and a paper cup in the other.

Daniel tries to sniff the air as if he’s a canine.

_Pumpkin Spice Latte._ He perks up. A luxury he seldom can afford.

Jaehwan hands the paper cup to him and Daniel takes it, as he straightens up, although with suspicion. It’s still full.

 

“What? You’re giving me this for free?” Daniel squints “Where is Kim Jaehwan and what did you do to him?”

Jaehwan lets out a pfft at the sheer ridiculousness “Not me. The noona from the coffee shop. What did _you_ do to her? I’ve been a regular for two years and never I got so much as a piece of butter cookie. You’ve been there twice.”

 

Daniel throws one hand up in the air after inspecting the cup (and the message written by marker “ _Daniel, please come to the shop again!^^_ ”) then back to look at Jaehwan.

“The last time I was there, I _just_ ordered while waiting for _you_ to come with your guitar and your eyebag and spend the rest of my precious paycheck.”

 

“What, I need to do the recording and it’s not my fault Gunhee is a perfectionist and need a thousand retakes until he’s satisfied. And it’s not even for the group project. He said he wanted the best for me, the star of the class.” Jaehwan spreads his arms like a bird.

Daniel is the one who pffts this time.

 

Jaehwan is squinting at him, unfolding his wings “We’re talking about the latte. And it must be your satoori. You’re already aiming for this grand design when you ordered the first time, you criminal.”

“Well, arrest me then, officer.” Daniel acts, sipping his latte with pretend haughtiness (and groans inwardly as he savours it.)

Jaehwan chucks the pillow at him at the right moment, missing his precious drink by only an inch and right at the side of his temple as Daniel just moves to turn back and put his precious cup back on the table.

Jaehwan giggles. That calm start before a full-blown cackle.

“That’s my latte, you bastard.”

Daniel battle-cries, still in-character, forgets all about his midterm to fly across the room and engage in a bodily fight with this roommate.

*

 

Contrary to his current frustation, Daniel is sort of relieved he still has two more years left in his studies.

Sure he has always known what he wants to do for life: dancing. Maybe be a dance instructor or choreographer later—he still hasn’t decided yet.

 

But to be a real part of society, of real adulting in the Great Unknown Future still sounds so terrifying.

Like he still doesn’t know how to choose the right wattage for his light bulb, or how to read the washing instruction on his cloth’s tags.

Heck, he still eats unripe banana, more often than not, simply because he can’t distinguish it.

 

There is just so much he doesn’t know about this world and he just wants to stay right here in this moment when all he should worry about is that revised paper due friday or if the next-door store will still has the deal for 1+1 gummy bears when he runs out.

 

And Daniel does worry again about his exam after finished tackling Jaehwan and gets back to a gloomy mess perched on their top bunk.

He sighs loudly as he picks at the hole on Jaehwan’s pillow and proceeds to throw the shredded foam bit by bit to the owner who is snacking and watching youtube on his laptop below on Daniel’s lower bed, just because.

“Niel-ah,” Jaehwan finally snaps, ruffling his hair to get rid of the fake dandruff “Seriously.”

“Seriously, how can you watch Twice when it’s exam tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna ace it.” Jaehwan says, muffled, munching on his chips “What’s the three elements of music? The song, my soul and my life. Easy.”

Daniel’s pretty sure that’s not the answer but he doesn’t want to argue.

 

“Just when, when will this all be over?” Daniel throws himself to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling dramatically as the bed creaks under his weight. “I want to go out and play.”

Jaehwan’s munching noise stops “Ah,” he says.

“What?” Daniel asks.

“Sewoon said he got free passes from his manager tonight after the park closes. If you want to come?”

 Daniel sits up automatically and moves to look at Jaehwan over the bed railing “ _The_ amusement park?”

“Yep.” Jaehwan pops a chip into his mouth “I heard they’re going to have some annual maintenance so they’ll keep the power on until they’re done running the tests. Sewoon’s manager say he’s cool if Sewoon wants to bring few friends, as long as we’re not going on scary rides or something. And I know you never had the chance to go. So?”

 

Daniel wonders if Kim Jaehwan were the devil sent to tempt him with the apple of knowledge. Because between his midterm reading material, mental preparation for practical and his new part-time job tomorrow, he really needs a lot of rest.

So Daniel, honest to god, doesn’t know why he says yes.

*

 

Daniel thought he’s had his life priorities sorted out, so he completely doesn’t get why he just goes with Jaehwan's idea to do courage test in the Haunted House.

The kids from their circle—namely Woojin and Jihoon, who are wearing their uniforms of matching pink training outfit—are ecstatic, to say the least.

(Because apparently Woojin also needs to survey that very attraction for their campus festival next year.)

While Jisung, the self-proclaimed mother hen of the group (and who's already getting stressed out, just two months into his half-year long internship) just chuckles but doesn't disagree.

Sewoon reassures them that all the Haunted House staffs has gotten off work, so there’ll be nothing to scare them inside except for the props.

 

And Daniel just hates them all.

(Okay, maybe not so much, because he kinda really misses Jisung and already gave the guy a crushing hug when he saw his favorite hyung coming to their little not-so gathering.)

 

Because if there’s two things Daniel loathe with every pores of his being, they’re insect and ghost.

 

“Back out and you’ll pay for all of our lunch and dinner tomorrow.” Jaehwan grins, like the psycopath that he is.

(Daniel decides he just hates Jaehwan, because Jaehwan clearly knows Daniel is short on money this month.)

 

They play rock-paper-scissor to decide the turn and Daniel is going to be last (and he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing.)

 

Woojin—pink sausage #1; the boy with the cute snaggletooth; Daniel’s hoobae in Modern Dance and their college’s dance club—gets to go first, followed by Jihoon—pink sausage #2; the boy with the pretty eyes; also Daniel’s hoobae—in second.

Both of them, respectively, come out in less than 5 minutes without breaking a sweat.

And since the two are like the manliest out of their group, despite their age and clearly still-growing appearances, it shouldn’t be a wonder.

 

They just casually exchange detail about the props inside and proceed to ask Sewoon if the guy knows what whozits and whatzits are made of.

 

Jaehwan—not a pink sausage; the guy with innocent face yet wild voice; the bane of Daniel’s peace—goes third, and this is when Daniel starts to worry because Jaehwan’s usual cackle is already goosebumps-inducing. Paired with the setting of a Haunted House, it sounds like his darkest nightmare.

(“Something fell behind me, oh my god.” Jaehwan is still cackling, in between hysteria and excitement and fear, when he comes out.

“It must be one of the installation.” Sewoon explains, calm as always “They set up a string on the floor, so that if you step on it and drag them too far it’ll open the box in the ceiling.”

Woojin and Jihoon goes _ooh_ and _aah_ ing like Sewoon is the prophet of their new religion.

While Daniel starts to break into a cold sweat.

Because, _what if it’s not the installation?_ )

 

Jisung—the stressed-out guy with motherly affection from _Theatre_ ; Daniel’s friend since childhood from his hometown—goes after that and startles Daniel with one loud scream.

When Jisung comes back tho, he only shrugs.

 

(“Why are you screaming?” Daniel asks, cautious,

“I just get surprised by a mop. Don’t worry, Niel-ie, there’s really nothing inside.” Jisung says.)

 

Daniel can’t decide if Jisung being honest or he tells him that just so Daniel won’t be even more scared.

Doesn’t matter because it’s his turn now and he _is_ getting more scared.

 

When Jisung walks—more like prods and pushes—him to the entrance (because his feet won’t move otherwise), Daniel feels so much like like he’s a young soldier being sent off by his mother, at the train station, for the second world war.

“Just don’t overthink it.” Jisung says “The track is easy, you should be out here again in no time.”

Daniel gulps, lets go of Jisung’s hand he doesn’t reaize he’s been holding and steps into the darkness.

 

Unless it’s not as dark as he expects it to be. Daniel blinks twice. Like the lamps are purposedly left on for cleaning up after work or something.

It’s still kind of quiet because of the soundproofing system, but Daniel thinks he’ll manage.

_Huh._ He straightens up. He guesses wild-guessing and wondering about something unknown will always be scarier than if he faces it head-on. He concludes, deciding to brave himself.

 

That is, until he hears a loud clunk somewhere ahead and _there is supposed to be no one in the room_ and he whines “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

He’s about to turn back and get out from the entrance again when he remembers Jaehwan’s nasty grin and the bet, and he curses his roommate.

 

Daniel swallows and finally decides to just continue the course, charging forward, not looking anywhere else but his shoes—not the skeleton, or the trail of crimson blood or the jars of eyeballs—as he mutters in heavy satoori “I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to d—“

“Why do you think you’re going to die?” A voice, rather exasperated, asks and Daniel shrieks so loudly it rattles the wall.

 

A man. Or maybe a very realistic sculpture, is sitting cross-legged on the fake coffin just behind him, book in his lap.

Daniel misses the damned thing because of the sharp turn, now he gets so shocked he doesn’t think twice as he turns and approaches it with wide eyes.

(It doesn’t help that the man-or-sculpture is staying very still at that point.)

 

Daniel is moving like he’s stupefied, in between wondering if he’s just hallucinating the voice and appreciating the facial features of the sculpture man (the sharp jaw, the hazel eyes, the constellation of three little moles on the cheek—Daniel has never seen something so beautiful), as he gets a little more closer and watches when the wide lips right in front of his nose suddenly moves to whisper a soft “Boo.”

Daniel shrieks again, scandalized, clutching at his chest. The man, Daniel supposes so, doubles over in laughter.

 

Daniel doesn’t even feel offended, he just says “Oh, thank god you’re human.” rather stupidly.

The man doesn’t answer, has stopped laughing, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes that Daniel couldn’t decipher.

 

_He could be anyone_ , Daniel suddenly thinks. Haunted House long gone in his mind, as they wander off to his collection of rom-com movies in his house in Busan. _A celebrity in hiding from his busy schedule, a mafia underboss on the run, a detective on a stake out._

He decides to just ask, “What are you doing here?”

The man seems to think about this for a while before answering “I was.. resting,”

 “Oh,” Daniel says, feeling a bit disappointed as he concludes for himself (because now that he thinks about it, the guy looks nothing short of a vampire, even if it’s a pretend one) “Are you one of the staff falling asleep during work? Well, Sewoon said your coworkers had already left when the park closed,”

The man just stares at him then shrugs.

 

“Well,” Daniel scratches the back of his head, fully back to the real world “I need to go back out now or my friends will start to worry.”

Because the other just nods, Daniel nods back and sends himself on his merry way.

“I hope you don’t tell anyone about me!” The man suddenly shouts to him.

Daniel stops in his track to look over his shoulder, giving the other an easy smile “Sure. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your superior either.” before he decides to add after a little thinking, just for a good measure “See you when I see you!”

The man doesn’t respond, Daniel doesn’t think too much about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Humans are amusing, Seungwoo thinks. As they seem to seek enjoyment and relief in things they’re most afraid of.

Height, future, _ghost_.

They build a specific place to pool all of these things together (They even name it _Amusement Park_ , how fitting.)

And Seungwoo’s here just to sneer at them.

(Also because his usual scheduled Reaping in the area isn’t until really late this night and he needs to waste his time away.)

 

He still hasn’t gotten any of his well-deserved rest, and he’s looking for a place that’s more on the quiet and darker side.

(The gypsian tent that’s housing a fortune teller is not an option, it’s hard to rest if you want to barf every ten minutes—Seungwoo can’t stomach bullshit.)

He guesses it’s dumb for him to visit the park at the first place, but he can’t really think well.

In the end, his decision falls on a supposedly-menacing establishment with a huge _HAUNTED HOUSE_ sign in bloody letter standing on the roof.

 

There’s little to no visitor at the time. He steps in, invisibly confident, to the dim room that’s filled with hushed murmurs, seemingly from the staffs that are stationed inside.

Seungwoo sees them just as clearly as if he were to see them on a bright day.

 

Silly costumes, hilarious face-paints.

 

Humans seem not to understand what they should really be afraid of.

What these people portraying are just petty wandering souls, chasing off those who are alive so they scamper away with no other meaning or purpose.

What’s scarier than ghosts is spirit that doesn’t come from human. Something that’s been roaming the earth from the beginning of time.

Things that fill human with hatred, turning them into vessel of greed, of _inhuman_ thoughts, of evil intentions.

 

Seungwoo decides to stop contemplating these things because he really doesn’t need to and settles himself in an empty black coffin made from cardboard (another how fitting situation right there) sitting in the corner after a turn.

It’s kind of noisy for Seungwoo to rest, so he chooses to be annoying and snaps shut the coffin loudly after he’s lying inside.

It stops the murmurs nicely and Seungwoo scoff-laughs when he hears the staffs are trying to reassure themselves that _that_ must be the wind or something.

On the bright side, no one is making an attempt to check on his coffin.

 

Since grim reapers can’t really sleep, Seungwoo closes his eyes and tries to empty his mind.

Trying not to think about his Reaping later, nor about the other card inside the envelope that’s been irking him.

 

He stays like that for a few hours. With little bit of screams and squeals once in a while that sounds rather far-away.

 

When he wills himself to get up, peeking as he lifts the top of his casket a little, the room is somehow looking more well-lit than before, even that it’s from artificial lighting.

The staffs are in the middle of packing up, and this time, it’s really not intentional that Seungwoo just loudly snaps the coffin open, immediately making the staffs frozen on their spot, before they look into each other’s eyes in silent understanding and they bolt out of the door, running for their dear life.

 

_Oops?_ Seungwoo thinks to himself. Before he gets out and closes the coffin properly to sit on it.

 

After checking his pocket watch again and finding he still has another few hours left, Seungwoo decides to fish out a coffee-table sized book of a title he’s been reading that he always keeps in the other pocket of his overcoat.

 

It’s not until one hour later, that he a faint commotion from outside the door but chooses to ignore.

That is, until he finds someone actually comes inside his safe haven, a boy looking no any day older than seventeen, in a pink training outfit.

He’s not intrusive, at least and seeming more curious than anything. Touching here and there. Sniffing this and that.

Like he’s visiting an exhibition, not a Haunted House.

 

Seungwoo hopes he doesn’t check the coffin he’s sitting on. (The boy doesn’t.)

 

The one after that is wearing the same pink training outfit. Fairly pretty boy, Seungwoo thinks, like that 90’s song. Also peering at everything as if he’s on an investigation or something.

 

The two guys after the pink sausages are more entertaining.

One has a cackle that’s mildly annoying (he accidentaly stepped on the string that’s meant to open the hidden overhead compartment, from which bunch of wigs fall.)

The other one just looks so tired and so done with everything, Seungwoo’s wondering if he’s sleepwalking.

He gets scared of a mop, screams rather soullessly then that’s it.

 

Seungwoo thinks it’ll be the end of it. Then another one comes in.

A guy with notably the widest shoulder he has ever seen, looking like he’s forced to be here. His expressions changing from constipated, to relieved, to determined.

Seungwoo just hums as he watches. And is in the middle of uncrossing and crossing his legs when he accidentaly kicks a wooden cross he doesn’t see lying on the floor to the other side of the wall and it startles the guy.

_Oops._

 

The guy’s face falls like a kicked puppy (Seungwoo finds it, _you don’t hear this from him_ , almost endearing) as he starts to whine “ _Oh my god, I’m going to die._ ”

Then he turns around and back again, before breaking into a string of satoori as he power-walks, almost passing by Seungwoo’s coffin “ _I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to d—_ “

 

Seungwoo, _not_ -smitten as he is, is peeved, because “Why do you think you’re going to die?”

And the guy suddenly stops walking to turn around and looks right at him.

 

_Fuck._ Did he just drop his glamour?

He _did._

 

Seungwoo tries to stay very still as the guy approaches him with eyes wide open. Doesn’t know what he’s going to do now, because the guy gets so close Seungwoo can practically hear the loud thump-thump from his broad chest.

Seungwoo notices the soft-looking dark brown hair, the fine nose, the child-like curious eyes and the little mole just under the right one.

_This boy could be anyone_. He suddenly thinks, mind drifting to the countless spines of books he’s read sitting on his bookshelf. _A young artist in need of recognition, an aspiring veteranian, an occasional hitchhiker seeking for stories to share on every ride, another name he’ll see on the card in a few decades._

And Seungwoo doesn’t understand why he’s even thinking about this, so he decides to be cheeky and whisper a “Boo.”

 

The guy squeals, jumps back, clutching his chest with a very scandalized expression and Seungwoo can’t help but to laugh, doubling over.

It’s been a very exhausting day and his mind can’t seem to control his body very well.

 

When he’s finally able to stop his laughing fit, the guy blurts out an innocent statement “Oh, thank god you’re human.”

 

Seungwoo doesn’t feel the need to deny and elaborate. So he just watches as the guy stares at him. He seems to be thinking about sometimes, crescent eyes dancing with wonders.

 

When he finally talks, he asks a very unassuming “What are you doing here?”

“I was...” Seungwoo can lie, but he somehow chooses to be half-truthful “resting.”

 

“Oh.” The wonders in his eyes are gone, Seungwoo doesn’t know why “Are you one of the staff falling asleep during work? Well, Sewoon said your coworkers has already left when the park closed,”

 

The guy seems definite about his assumption so Seungwoo lets it be, shrugging a little.

“Well, I need to go back out now or my friends will start to worry.” The guy tells him, scratching the back of his head.

Seungwoo just nods as he sends him away, before he remembers something.

“I hope you don’t tell anyone about me!” He shouts.

“Sure. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your superior either.” He complies as he looks back, smiling like a thousand suns “See you when I see you!”

 

Seungwoo hopes (maybe not so) they won’t. Because he’ll get in trouble with his real superior, if Taehyun about to know he lets himself seen by a human unintentionally.

(Convenience store’s clerk or other people that relates to necessities don’t count.

The guy does not.)

 

He ponders about this for a few minutes when he hears a ticking sound that’s gradually getting louder in the silence when he realizes.

_Shit._ Seungwoo curses as he grabs and clicks open his pocket watch. _He’s going to be late for his Reaping._


	4. The Death Card

 

 

 

>  
> 
> _“I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet._
> 
> _The function of man is to live, not to exist._
> 
> _I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them._
> 
> _I shall use my time.”_
> 
> _― Jack London_

 

* * *

 

Daniel considers himself lucky in many ways. It might have something to do with him being an overall positive person. But he’s learned to be grateful for every little thing in life.

Notes from a kind classmate for him to copy because he dozed off during a lecture that one time when he’s busy juggling between school, dance competition and two part-time works; A free roll of gimbap from the _pojangmacha_ ahjumma down his building who’s finding he’s been living on ramyun for three days when he’s short on money; A pot of homemade chicken soup whenever he’s sick eventhough he’s miles away from home because Jisung always cares so much; A somehow liberating impromptu sing-along session with Jaehwan on those nights when they’re feeling sentimental, after talking about future and vampires and UFOs and whatnots; And now, this..

 

Daniel sighs happily when he arrives at work that monday, stationed in his new counter, looking at rows and rows of comic books (and other kind of books too) displayed in majestic, tall shelves in front of him.

 

Comic book cafes are hot in Seoul these days. (Ones with private compartments to rent where customers can read and order food from, although there’s also the usual long tables and booths) And Daniel is lucky to land a job in one of them.

 

He loves comic. All kind of them. Comic, manga, manhwa, webtoons.

Although he’s finding it hard to have time for them now that he’s busy adulting.

So that being able to earn money while having the chance to catch up on hundreds of titles he’s been listing up for months feels like a silly dream coming true.

The owner is real kind too.

Count your blessings, Daniel guesses, as what people say.

 

He taps his feet excitedly, smiling from ear to ear as he glances down to the series of manga he’s stacked for himself behind the counter.

Hoping no one will reserve them later.

 

The bell at the doors jingles as two dashing figures comes in, in almost similar fashion style: dark overcoats, turtlenecks, well-fitting pants and leather boots.

Daniel doesn’t recognize him until they arrive in front of his counter.

He’s ready with a smile when he finally does, not expecting that the other will recognize him first, muttering an “Oh.”

“Oh!” Daniel exclaims back.

It’s the guy from the Haunted House.

*

 

Seungwoo shouldn’t have made that exclamation. Now Minhyun is curious and he will have a hell lot of explaining to do.

 

He’s here because Minhyun somehow finds him resting in the Haunted House yesterday a bit pathetic. That his Vice Chief decided to show how elegantly he’s spending his time.

The guy at the counter is still smiling, but not prolonging the whole recognizing thing and Seungwoo guesses he’s grateful for it.

 

“Are you new?” Minhyun asks, smiling that gentle smile of his, seeming to forgo the earlier odd occurence.

“Yes.” The guy beams.

Seungwoo notices he’s beaming on everything. His life must be full of rainbows and pink sprinkles.

 

“Well it’s about time Seokhoon hyung step down from that counter. He’s always complaining about getting cramps.” Minhyun says, rather a matter-of-factly.

But the guy laughs like Minhyun just tells him the funniest joke on earth. Nose scrunching up, eyes missing into slits.

And Minhyun must’ve found it endearing because he suddenly looks at the guy with the _hyungnim-_ gaze he usually gives to Seonho.

 

Seungwoo doesn’t even know why he finds the interaction a tad bit annoying.

“Are we going to stand here all day or something?” He asks.

 

Minhyun gives him a look which Seungwoo returns with a roll of eyes, but then he still proceeds to rent a compartment (“I usually get 3A, if you please?”) after giving the guy his membership card and orders drinks for them.

They already decided beforehand that they’re fed up with teas, so they’ll go with iced americanos. As black as the death.

 

After the smiley guy passes the order to the bar, they get their rental card and goes on their merry way.

Minhyun thanks the guy after glancing at the name badge (Seungwoo subconsciously notes it down too) “Thankyou, Daniel.”

 

The compartments are built like capsules room, in two rows. The A rows are on top, The Bs are below.

It’s all woods parquette, firm mattress and soft lightings. Seungwoo has to admit it looks quite luxurious.

 

But they’re not here to marvel at interior design. Nor to specifically read. Nor for Minhyun to particularly irritate him with his typical prince-y choice.

But to talk somewhere that’s not the Ministry.

 

“You’ve got your envelope already?” Seungwoo asks as they settle down in their compartment. Legs a little bit too long for the space so he decides to sit indian-style.

Minhyun nods “Yesterday night. I didn’t exactly come back to the office after going to the rec room. I had Reaping in Jeju-do early in the morning and Dongho wanted _hallabong_.”

 

Seungwoo chuckles a little, hand sliding up to fetch the envelope that finally comes out to see the day again.

Minhyun does the same.

They both then just stare at the wax seal of the Ministry of Death. A figure of a raven in bloody red.

 

“Should we open it now?”

“Together?”

“Together.”

 

“Wait.” Seungwoo stops them “I meant to ask you, did you talk to Jonghyun?”

“Yes.”

“He’s in correpondency with The Doves. Because it’s just weird that those clocks don’t have serial numbers. They’ve sent back the abnormals one for the other ministry to re-check, there’s six of them, and they got it back, still broken, with only a note saying _We don’t make mistakes_.”

“Sounds like a crock of shit to me.”

Minhyun shrugs. “Jonghyun couldn’t do anything but to proceed as per usual.”

“And so now we have to deal with Death Cards with no day, no hour, no cause of death whatsoever because the other ministry _clearly_ never make mistakes.”

Minhyun shushes him and starts to look everwhere like afraid The Doves are around.

Seungwoo doesn’t care “I mean, _they_ decide these things. How hard is it for them to re-do it. Just stamp the fucking clocks!

“We’ve got lotsa works to do. And we have to waste our time away because we have to keep watch on the name that we don’t fucking know when exactly to reap them until they _do_ die.”

“Well, we can argue that the usual time span from the clock starts behaving oddly to the actual time of death is a week to four months. Six month is the longest, but it’s uncommon.”

Seungwoo just throws both of his hands up,

lost for words.

 

“Shall we open them now?” Minhyun reminds them to the problem in hand. Quite literally.

Seungwoo shrugs and sighs, starting to peel the wax seal and slowly pulling out the card.

There’s, as expected, only one row of detail. But Seungwoo has to blink several times to reassure himself because he feels like the name _means_ something else.

(“.......What about you? What do you get?” Minhyun asks, unheard.)

 

It doesn’t change.

 

_Kang Daniel._


End file.
